


Crash and Burn

by brodinsons (aeon_entwined)



Series: Fruit of Eden [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeon_entwined/pseuds/brodinsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ORIGINALLY POSTED: April 29, 2010</p>
<p>Dean learns more than he wanted to and lines are crossed as bridges burn ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash and Burn

The next morning, Sam wakes up feeling relatively normal. Normal being a _very_ relative term when it’s used in reference to Winchesters. And considering there’s currently a rather heavy weight settled over him, normal seems about ready to go flying out the window again.

As he glances over his shoulder, all he sees is a mop of suspiciously familiar blond hair and the hint of a week’s worth of stubble gracing the side of a familiar jawline.

“You know,” he muses aloud. “I think you’re a bit too cuddly to be classified as the definition of evil.”

The heavy shape makes a noncommittal sound. “Physical contact is a surprisingly enjoyable sensation. Stop moving. You’re in a very comfortable position.”

“Oookay.” Sam quirks an eyebrow, but obeys the request.

After a few moments, the archangel shifts and it’s apparent he’s dissatisfied with something.

“You’re thinking loud enough to reverberate in my brain. Pray tell, Samuel, what’s the problem?”

For a moment, Sam just buries his face in his pillow and cracks up, finally emerging several moments later after successfully composing himself.

“Dude … I just woke up with the Devil, we’re right in the middle of the Apocalypse, and-“ he’s abruptly cut off as the door bursts open and his brother strides in.

“Heya Sammy, time to-“ Dean halts immediately, almost as if he’d run into an invisible brick wall. “OhmyGodmyeyes.”

Sam whips around, still complete with archangel attachment, and gapes at his brother. “Dude, not cool! Just … go back outside or something, Christ!”

He waves a frantic hand and bitchfaces magnificently, glaring daggers at Dean’s back as the elder Winchester flees for safety, probably the Impala to go driving with Cas, one hand securely over his eyes.

Once the episode subsides and no one’s brain has been permanently scarred, Sam breathes out and makes an attempt to move. Which is quickly aborted by the fact that there is still a pair of inhumanly strong arms wrapped around his waist.

“Um … you thinking of moving anytime soon?” he raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder. What he finds … isn’t exactly what he expected.

Lucifer is staring at him, in that almost-kind-of-creepy-I-can-see-your-soul way angels seem to have the ability of doing. And his eyes have gone an impossibly dark shade of blue. 

Sam blinks, then swallows. Because the look isn’t so much searching as something close to predatory … feral. And even though he _knows_ Lucifer isn’t going to hurt him, he can’t help feeling a little intimidated by those utterly alien eyes. Because, all of a sudden, he’s very aware of the heavy, static weight of the air in the room.

Then, Lucifer moves. But he’s all control and just a lithe shifting of limbs. Nothing is accidental. Everything is measured and precise. Which is just another little reminder that he’s an _archangel_ , strong enough to obliterate half the globe with a thought.

“Stay still.” The words are murmured softly into his ear, the angel’s breath ghosting over the sensitive flesh and sending goose bumps down his spine.

And Sam can’t do anything but obey. He doesn’t feel bound or controlled, just almost desperate to obey Lucifer’s request. And oddly enough, this doesn’t seem as strange as it should.

There’s a soft _snap_ next to his ear, and a second later, they’re both abruptly naked. 

The archangel leans back, straddling his hips, trapping Sam’s already hard cock between their bodies. And he just watches the hunter, curious and lustful all at once. 

All Sam does is let his eyes travel over Lucifer’s body. Au contraire to what most people believe about the physicality of angels, he isn’t perfectly proportional, or sculpted out of marble. His muscles are softly defined, rippling beneath the skin in a display afforded to Sam as a slice of light cuts through the blinds, playing over the archangel’s abs and torso.

Almost unconsciously, Sam is reaching up, tracing his palms over the broad planes of the angel’s chest.

Lucifer watches him closely; impossibly blue eyes boring into his own. Then, he shifts again, lifting onto his knees.

And then, that’s when it hits him. They’re crossing that line that’s been wavering and shivering before them for going on a month. They’ve toed it, made to cross halfway over, but they’ve always retreated to their respective sides once things get too confusing. This … this is stepping over it confidently and burning every bridge it took to get there.

With another look at the human, _his_ human, Lucifer reaches down behind him, taking Sam’s length in his hand. A thought, and his hand is slick, liberally coating the human’s cock as he twists his wrist. 

He isn’t entirely naïve. He has observed and witnessed Sin for millennia. But, this is his first experience incarnate in the flesh. And he intends to wring every last shiver of sensation out of them both. 

Lucifer growls low in his throat, making Sam’s breath hitch at the utter possessiveness in the sound, then sinks back down, taking the human’s length in one smooth motion. 

He groans, shuddering at the stretch and burn of it as Sam enters his body. He could ignore it completely, shut down all sensory input. But he _wants_ to feel this. He wants to feel Sam and nothing else.

Sam loses all his air in one go, arching up and grabbing hold of the archangel’s hips.

With a low rumble of approval, Lucifer rolls his hips, moving forward into a slow, powerful rhythm. He shifts onto his knees, almost until Sam’s length is barely within his body, then sinks back down, his motions stuttering every time at the contact against his prostate.

Beneath him, Sam is slowly reducing himself to a twitching, gasping mess, his hips attempting to buck upward in a stuttered counterpoint to the archangel’s driving pace.

The hunter moans again, this time reaching up with one hand, curling around the nape of Lucifer’s neck and pulling him down, sealing their lips together.

The sudden change in angle takes him completely by surprise. With a breathless gasp into the human’s mouth, Lucifer tenses, his orgasm catching him completely unawares.

His entire body shudders, every muscle tensing in climax. Sam groans plaintively into his mouth, bucking his hips upward once before shaking through his own release.

Once the tidal wave washes over both of them, they’re left shivering in each other’s arms, completely at a loss of what to do next.

Sam immediately wraps both arms around Lucifer’s body, rolling them onto their sides. The archangel makes a quiet noise of protest as Sam’s length slips from his body, but the hunter distracts him with another kiss, this one slightly lazier and unhurried.

“So,” Sam murmurs, trying his best to come up with something halfway intelligent to say. “You’re really sticking around for good … huh?”

Lucifer glances at him, expression caught between amusement and curiosity. “Yes. That is my intention.”


End file.
